Watch her zip upthe strapless gown,with a little jumpto power throughto the top,then run her handsover her waistand hipsand twist her torsoto reflect a minute on the girlwho is going to the prom.She has no acne on her back now,this girl,or lunchroom friendswho abandon her,or feathery hair on her upper lip.In the fitting room,under full-spectrum lightssurrounded by halters,V-necks, and sweethearts,she has found her style.Watch herbend overto fill the cups to the topwith the perfect breastsshe always wanted.

Author Bio:S.K. Tatiner is a student at the Writers Studio Advanced Poetry Workshop. She lives and works in New Jersey.